


Every Monday, or at least On Saturday

by CampionSayn



Category: Legion of Super Heroes (Cartoons), Legion of Super Heroes - All Media Types, Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st Century (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/M, Gen, Other, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:12:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Problems find their place in one place or another, and without fail, that place will be a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Monday, or at least On Saturday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosethegreekgeek](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rosethegreekgeek).



“What does ‘I know my truth’ _mean_ , exactly?”  
  
Garth sighed from where he was bent over on the other side of the bar counter, searching the ice chest for the vodka Chuck had sworn he’d stuffed in the bottom like he was supposed to with a proof that expensive, but might have mixed it up with the Tequila, given that Luornu had popped in–all three of her–to pester him into leaving early since she’d gotten them tickets to a roller derby event or something. Both of Garth’s hands kept sparking, electricity not mixing well with the ice, but he maintained his dignity and didn’t curse.  
  
“That another one of your patients is about to leave your loving, attentive care for that quack down the street?”  
  
Imra sulked further into the cushion of her bar stool and sipped from her Long Island Ice Tea _(”almost a virgin” just how she liked it)_ with the cloud that had been over her head since her last session growing steadily darker.  
  
“I don’t understand this,” she complained as much as she was willing to allow herself without seeming as whiny as Tinya could be after being stuck picking up her mother’s diplomatic slack with all the jet-lag and exhaustion that came with it; Imra herself being a stickler for at least giving off the _appearance_ of being in control of herself–alcohol laced tea notwithstanding, “Therapy with Drax was actually going so well–”  
  
“You mean compared to _last year_ when he tried to hit you with a chair and sent it hurtling through your window into traffic?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” she hissed, breath causing the straw to bounce to the other side of her glass and then maneuver back when she sucked her breath back in to calm down lest she do something detrimental to her boyfriend’s brain with her cranky emotional state, “Compared to last year he was turning into a maker of flower crowns and a listener of Jimmy Buffet.”  
  
Actually finding what he’d been looking for, Garth wiped his hands off on his apron and gave his girl a light kiss on the forehead–also possibly stalling her from going deeper and deeper into her self-doubt. Possibly.  
  
Imra appreciated the gesture for whatever it was worth, running her fingers through her hair and trying not to flinch when Brin _(trying to give them their privacy as much as was ever going to be possible in an open bar an hour before he got off his shift and went out to get his girlfriend out of work before she passed out from forgetting to drink and eat like the last time her mother had bailed on anything to do with Durlans and Braalians refusing to co-operate speaking Interlac)_ mentally cursed at finding yet another broken bottle hidden under a booth with black ants making a meal of the liquor left inside. 


End file.
